Te Busque
by Sakura's Pointe Shoes
Summary: Often times, the things you most want aren't very far away.
1. The Search

**Title: **Te Busque

**Summary:** Often times, the things you most want aren't very far away.

**Rating:** T

**A/N:** Ok, here's something not too depressing that should cheer us RH shippers up. Hope you enjoy, R and R!

Harry had both hands on the wheel when his mobile rang, and if he had been a lesser man he probably would have jumped at the sound. He let it ring two more times before he was able to pick it up without hitting another car. The caller ID displayed a number he didn't recognize, yet he flipped it open and answered it.

"Yes?"

There was a slight crackle on the line, and for a moment he thought he lost the connection. He couldn't hear anything except for someone's faint but steady breathing.

"Who is this?"

His patience was running short, especially this late at night, and the harsh bark of his voice cut through the emptiness of his car. He was pleasantly surprised to hear a voice on the other end.

"Um, Harry. It's...It's Ruth."

He was glad he was an excellent driver because he succeeded in keeping the car in the correct lane, despite his initial surprise. A brief flash of memory from one of their more awkward phone conversations flew through his head. It brought a wan smile to his lips, as well as puzzlement as to why she had called his mobile when she knew he was going home.

"Ruth," He said, as an affirmation that she was still there, "What can I do for you?"

She was hesitant in her reply.

"Well, nothing really, it's just...I er...I don't know why I called. I'm not in Thames House, I well, I'm not at work-"

Her obvious nervousness presented itself in her clipped words and the impairment of her ablility to create proper sentences.

"Ruth, take a deep breath and relax. It's fine, I don't mind a little chat that has nothing to do with work now and then." Another awkward silence took hold between them. He kept driving, all the while waiting for her to say something.

"Right. Sorry." He imagined her sitting on her couch, a warm blanket wrapped around her legs with a cup of steaming coffee, possibly reading or watching something on her television set. Apparently nothing at home was enough to keep her occupied, and she was talking to him on a Friday evening. He thought she should be out with friends, somewhere in the city, at a restaurant or maybe even a club. He thought of another restaurant he'd like to take her to, before he remembered her blunt rejection and flimsy excuse for not wanting to see him outside of the Grid again.

The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He came to a signal and gradually slowed his speed, rolling to a full halt just in time to allow pedestrians to cross the street.

"So...What are you doing?" Whatever he had planned to say had been completely forgotten. His attempt to say something utterly suave and cool was less than effortless, which was quite frustrating for a man who was used to being able to talk himself out of deadly situations.

He could've sworn she giggled right then, but it was muffled and she probably clapped a hand over the mouthpiece.

"Nothing...important. What about you?"

"I'm in the car still. Bloody traffic, if I walked I'd probably get home faster."

"I took the tube. It was a lot quicker than I expected."

"Ah."

The signal turned green and he pushed on the accelerator, only to be stopped a few seconds later as traffic once again came to a full stop.

"I'm glad you called. From the looks of things, I'm probably going to be here awhile," Harry said sincerely and when she spoke he could definitely hear the smile in her tone.

"I'll just have to keep you company then."

TBC


	2. The Result of Illness

**A/N: **Here we go! Chapter 2 of my fic, "Te Busque." Please R and R!

**Disclaimer: (**checks) Nope, still don't own nuffin'. No money is being collected, no copyright infringement is intended. Okie dokie? Plus, don't you think NW's pregnancy would've been written into the show if I owned Spooks? Sheesh.

* * *

In Ruth's opinion, sitting at home alone on a Saturday night was a very spinster-ish thing to be caught doing. Unfortunately, it wasn't as if she had much choice in the matter, since she had come down with a very nasty flu that morning. She did a superb job of hiding it, never sniffling when people were listening, and always making sure to clear her desk of offending tissues, but eventually they caught on by lunch. Adam had pulled out a soggy roast beef sandwich for lunch in the meeting room, and she just _lost _it, bolting out of her chair and running as fast as her legs would carry her to the bathroom, coughing in disgust the whole way.

She was in no condition to do anything, even things as trivial as sifting through housekeeping surveillance with Malcom in the techroom were extremely difficult to perform. Ruth could hardly stand without getting dizzy or feeling imminent nausea rise in the back of her throat. Zaf called a cab for her and without a hint of hesitation, she had gladly clambered into the car. For once she was willing to just drop everything and leave. Nobody had stood in her way thankfully, and there wasn't anything urgent to be tackled.

Harry hadn't been on the Grid when she left, he'd been stuck in a meeting with the DG and other section heads. What they discussed was beyond her. Frankly, Ruth didn't have the energy to wonder what they were doing. The moment she arrived at her flat, she stumbled in, throwing her bag down on the wood floor in the hall and she made her way up the stairs into her bedroom. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

The rest of the day had been spent in bed, bundled up in old t-shirts and sweat pants from her college days with a waste basket and a box of tissues by her side. Along with the constant dull aches in her head, there was nausea, sneezing and uncontrollable shivering. She shut every window in the room, and was covered in the coziest wool blankets, all topped of by her huge, thick comforter. None of it felt any better, and the shivering was damn near impossible to beat. When she last took her temperature, she discovered that she had a high fever and immediately took a pill before going back to bed.

By 12:36 am the shivering finally began to retreat. Her head felt less heavy but that tingling sense of sickness was still lingering in her body. While she slept, she had actually managed to sweat, and she needed to remove a couple of shirts as well as one blanket. She was fully awake, but now her problem was finding something to do. There wasn't anything good on the telly, just a couple of crap shows that she had never been able to get into because of either a total lack of interest or simply not having time to sit and watch them. Fidget, her older tabby cat was out and about, probably somewhere hunting little birds or rodents.

Her newly obtained 5 month old kitten Sally had curled up on the bed in between the wrinkles of the comforter while she was sleeping, so Ruth scooped the purring fur ball up and settled the tiny baby into her lap. Her hand smoothed the cream colored fur as Sally flipped onto her back, clearly enjoying the attention Ruth was giving to her. This was one of the reasons she loved cats. Her natural tendency to worry about things and occassional obsessive compulsiveness were what made her and her feline companions so compatible.

As she continued to stroke the kitten, the phone in the kitchen began to ring. She cringed, not wanting to stand. Everytime she tried to get up, her head would swim and the floor would seem to zoom in and out of her already impaired vision.

The phone rang again, the trill of machinery slicing through the silence of her flat, and she gently carried Sally in her left arm as she slid out of bed to go to the kitchen.

Her eyes scanned the caller ID, not wanting to answer if it was some stupid telemarketer, and get back into bed as soon as possible. To her immediate displeasure, the call came up as "unavailable number" and she waited until her answering machine kicked in.

"...Ruth. I heard you had to leave early today, and er, I just want to let you know that you can take tomorrow off too, if you need to of course. Jo told me how bad you were feeling...she made it sound like you were hacking up blood. I..." The wonderfully grumbly voice trailed off, and her momentary trance was broken by the sudden uncertainty in his demeanor. "I hope you're alright. Get lots of rest."

He trailed off again, as if he couldn't decide what to say next, and it caused her to smile. She loved when he got all twisted and bent out of shape, especially when he was having a one-sided conversation.

"I...I find that sweet tea helps settle my stomach when I feel nauseated. Goodnight Ruth."

She was very much disappointed when the resounding click echoed through the dark kitchen, and he was no longer speaking. His voice was so pleasant to listen to, its resonance warmed her spirit whilst she got lost in his velvety words, it was a perfect blend of smooth logic, concern and sensuality.

Ruth wasn't very surprised when her hand grabbed the phone and dialed his number on its own. She waited a few seconds, and then it began to ring. She walked back to the room, holding the purring kitten in one arm and cradling the phone in her other hand. She soon was safely tucked into bed, with Sally sound asleep on her lap. Her breath caught in her throat as she heard him again.

"Hi," Was all she was able to muter. _Stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID..._

" Hi...Ruth. Did...Did you get my message? I called minutes ago..."

"Yeah, yes. I...was sleeping, but I did scramble up just in time." He didn't answer for a moment, and it felt like she was being deprived of oxygen.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have woken you. We don't have to talk now, I can call back in the morning-" Ruth also loved how protective he was when she was unwell. A tad selfish, but it was nice to know that someone was thinking of her, worried for her...

"No. No..." She repeated, "Now's good. I need something to keep my mind off the queasiness."

"How are you feeling?"

"Better than earlier, but I can hardly stand without getting terribly dizzy."

"Make sure you take something, and do try the sweet tea. It might help."

"Thank you. You're so sweet." It flew right out of her mouth before she could stop it. The filter between her brain and her mouth wasn't functioning, and she found herself feeling very, very silly.

"I can't tell if you're being real, or if that was a very poorly delivered pun." The sheer playfulness instead of his typically morose tone was present. Ruth laughed slightly, delighted that some of the awkwardness had melted away and familarity began to take its place. He joined her in laughing, an almost raspy sound that was beautiful to her ears.

"Oh Harry, you've caught me in a very poor state. I can't even make a proper joke. Just talk to me, keep me occupied."

"What do you want me to say?"

She smirked and then realized that he couldn't see her.

"Anything. Tell me about George."

He chuckled, as if he thought she was being funny, but Ruth insisted on the topic. He couldn't say no, and the turn in their conversation lasted for the better part of the hour. They stuck with all the safer topics; where Harry got George the terrier, to which she commented that it sounded like a good title for a children's book, and things like where they both went to buy pet food or how often they needed to groom their respective animals. Harry found himself doing most of the talking, and sleep was beginning to creep up on Ruth, who was content to lay back against the cushions and listen to him. She yawned into the mouth piece, slightly but involuntarily exagerrating the little whimper she made in the back of her throat. She could imagine his frown of concern, his handsome face flashing before her closed eyes.

"Am I boring you?"

Ruth nodded negatively and said, "No, I'm just...feeling very tired all of a sudden. Your voice is lovely to listen to."

"I'll take that as a compliment," He smiled, feeling as though he were somehow tucking her in by talking to her.

"It's meant as one. Do...Do you mind if I just, try to fall asleep on the line?"

"I'll be here 'til the end."

Ruth didn't miss the double meaning in his statement, but she didn't call him on it. She bit her lip in shame.

"Goodnight Harry."

"Goodnight Ruth."

She turned off the lamp on the bedside table and lay down under the blankets, as Sally hopped off the mattress and left the bedroom. Ruth kept the phone near her ear and listened for his consistent, oddly soothing way of breathing. Sleep came easily as she imagined his arms around her, his strong body supporting her back, and the room around her began to fade away into nothing.

TBC


	3. The Book

A/N: All you guys who reviewed are the bomb! I love you guys!!! Oh, and for the sake of this fic making sense, 505 did not happen. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Same old, same old. I don't own a thing, no money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended. I'm just a girl, having fun with her favorite couple. breaks out into the Gwen Stefani song ...OK, never mind, just get on w/ the fic.

* * *

The phone calls had become a weekly routine for them, a sort of retreat from their everyday lives. It was very relaxed, not as nerve-wracking as talking to each other face to face, but they could still communicate with the same ease as that of a normal couple. 

At the dinner, he knew he had pushed too far, he could read the fear in her face everytime she made a furtive glance down; everytime she inadvertently looked over her shoulder. Now, she was beginning to get used to their newly evolved relationship. She sometimes sent an email from her station, on her more mischievous days, asking what he'd like for lunch, or mundane, unexpected things like what his favorite colors were.

They learned more about the other as the month crawled by. There were days when he'd catch himself staring at the phone, longing to hear it ring, to hear her voice on the other end.

He passed a bookshop on the way to Thames House, when traffic was so bad that he decided to give in to the temptation to ditch his cab and walk the rest of the way. He picked up something that caught his eye through the window, with a certain lady in mind. He grinned as he skimmed through the book, raising his eyebrow when he came across the more interesting pages and snorting in disbelief whilst reading particularly outrageous parts.

Eventually he went ahead to purchase it and have it wrapped. He went on down the sidewalk, on to work, with a more enthusiastic stride, all the while whistling a tune.

* * *

Ruth spotted Harry as soon as he stood from his desk. She tried not to watch as he slid his office door open, as he took his time in walking toward her station. She busied herself with her weekly briefing, rereading useless facts and figures until she recognized the blur that was him in her peripheral vision. 

"Hey," She said softly. He looked at her, mouth twitching a little, almost breaking into a smile. She never spoke to him like that, not where their relationship was vulnerable to criticism and unwelcome speculation.

"I have Jo's and Adam's debriefings ready. Do you want them now?"

"Uh...yes. I think."

"You don't sound very sure of yourself."

He gave her a pointed look, and she had to stifle her laughter by biting her lip. She wordlessly handed him the said files, allowing herself a small smile. She went back to her computer, carrying on with her briefing, without realizing that he hadn't left her station. She glanced up to brush a stray strand of hair away from her eyes when she noticed he was still standing there, watching her with that dark, desirable stare.

"Harry?" Ruth frowned at him. When he spoke, she felt a familiar, searing heat plunge in her stomach as his words rumbled through her. She knew that look. It wasn't often that he chose to let down the barrier that guarded his heart.

"I need to see you. Away from here."

* * *

It was a delicious moment. The section head and intelligence analyst were standing on the rooftop, not unlike the time when he randomly invited her to dinner one evening. Gentle brown eyes locked with intense grey, and he handed her something wrapped neatly in lavender paper. 

The package was heavy, her arms shook a little under the weight of it. He urged her to unwrap it. Ruth obliged, peeling off the gift wrap with her meticulous hands. Harry shuffled his feet slightly as her eyes widened in mild shock. She turned the book around so that the front cover faced him.

"Harry, the title is _'101 Questions For New Couples; Soul Searching.'_" There was a subtle inflection at the end of her sentence, an apparent sign of her curiosity and maybe a little incredulity. He shrugged, trying not to grin.

"They don't sell a book that's titled, _'101 Questions For Socially Awkward Colleagues Who Are Attracted to Each Other But Don't Know What to Do About It.'_"

She seemed at a total loss of words. She opened the book and turned to the first page. She began to read out loud.

"Have you hit a speed bump in your relationship? Need to talk something over, but don't know how to approach it? Join me Dr. Martha Thayer, as I help couples like you work out the kinks with a special therapeutic process that involves a series of questions that will help determine whether she or he is really the one for you." Ruth stopped at the end and looked up at him, torn between amusement and uncertainty.

"I..." She paused at looked out over the buildings below, "Thank you Harry."

He nodded.

"Of course, the book is meant for...couples. Normally I can't stand shrinks, but I figured a book written by one wouldn't be as bad."

Ruth nodded and sort-of laughed, eying the book with hesitation and leaning against the banister with her lovely nervous body language.

"I kept the receipt, in case you wanted... to return it." He handed her the meager piece of paper. She watched him as he turned and left, even footsteps echoing behind him as he disappeared down the stairs.

It was late enough that the sun was beginning to set. She waited several moments, bathed in orange and gold, gripping the thick book and wondering how long she could hold out. The pull from him to her was inevitable, sooner or later she knew she would melt against him. If she returned the book, she knew he wouldn't pursue her further, out of respect for her wishes. If she kept it, it would be an affirmation of her allowance for him to continue...wooing her.

She smiled and turned to the first page of questions.

Her decision was made.

TBC


	4. The Ruse

**A/N:** In response to Molly's "Trapped Challenge," it doesn't quite meet all the criteria, but I wanted to trap those two sooo bad... D Sorry this took so long you guys, my life's been crazy, but I've finally gotten 'round to posting this! 505 still doesn't exist and please read, enjoy, and review!

**Disclaimer:** Yo quiero comprar la programa, pero...Yeah ok, that basically meant I wanna buy the rights to the TV show but as of now, I don't own nothing.

* * *

Unfortunately, there had been an impromptu visit from the Japanese prime minister Shinzo Abe, a visit that MI-5 had to provide security for. All their manpower had been necessary as well as some help from 6, and by the time the whole affair was over the inter-agency rivalry had just about gotten on everyone's last nerves.

Also, the visit had produced a massive workload for Ruth and her desk officers. The whole week was one continous flow of days that morphed into ceaseless, caffeine-filled nights. The trip had left a slime trail of paperwork and reports to be filled out. Ruth worked endlessly, until the ungodly hours in the morning and her right hand would cramp from constantly pressing her pen to paper. She hadn't gotten to speak a personal word to Harry. He'd been just as busy, if not more, arguing with other security heads and negotiating protection methods with the Abe's people. The language barrier was a problem too. Most of the officers spoke English quite well, but there was still a constant need for an interpreter.

Ruth was worried about the loss of contact. She wanted to move forward, a week of nothing felt like several steps back in their budding romance. Actually, it couldn't even be called a romance, she thought with some sadness, as she watched the PM's security team leaving the grid through the pods.

It was more like a half-relationship, filled with gaps and confusion, yet it came fully equipped with mutual adoration and respect for the other.

She let out a deep breath, then unconciously turned in her squeaky swivel chair to steal a casual glance at him. She wasn't surprised when he met her gaze full-on, and they shared a knowing look. He was relatively relaxed, it showed in the looseness of his broad shoulders. The expression on his face was one he always wore after an operation well-done, she recognized it because it was mirrored on her own.

Ruth shook her head slightly, earning a questioning look from Jo, who had been sitting quietly at her desk. Jo looked from the man behind the glass to the woman sitting in front of her with a slow turn of her shaggy blonde head. A wry grin tilted the corners of her mouth up.

The timing was more than right. If only they had an opportunity where they could catch each other in the right mood...She concentrated on scanning the weekly briefing on her laptop for a while, different ideas and thoughts running through her mind.

It was all she could do to keep from bouncing up and down in her chair with childish excitement.

Finally, there was something she could do.

"Ruth, would you mind taking a trip to the registry? I need all information pertaining to this man," Jo said convincingly enough. Ruth was always more than ready to make a run for files, and she took the sheet of paper from her with eagerness.

"Sure. Give me a few minutes. I'll be right back."

Jo watched until Ruth disappeared through the pods, and then picked up her phone. She dialed in the number of the control desk and leaned back in her chair when someone answered.

"Hello? Yes. This is Jo Portman from Counter-Terrorism. I have authorization from Harry Pearce to order a lockdown in the Registry. Why? Er...It's my orders. I've no idea why Mr. Pearce requested a lockdown. If you _really _wanted, I could go in and ask Mr. Pearce for his authorization code, but he's in a _very_ important meeting regarding the employment of certain members of the _administration_ and desk staff."

The woman at the switchboard mysteriously did not press any further and Jo got her wish.

"In fifteen minutes? That's fine. Thank you."

After she hung up, she rose from her seat and walked casually over to Harry's office. She knocked, then heard a "Come in!" and pulled the heavy door open. Jo found Harry seated behind his desk, fiddling with a pen.

"Damn thing, it won't work-"

She didn't waste a second.

"Ruth called from the fourth floor. She said something about a breaking lead on the Hatcher operation. She needs you to help her retrieve some files, she can't take them out because her clearance codes aren't high enough. She sounded pretty frazzled."

Harry nodded absent-mindedly and got up. Jo backed up and let him walk out of his office and onto the grid. It was about five seconds and he was long gone.

Jo crossed her arms with satisfaction, not caring that Ros had come up and was staring at her with her trademark snooty expression.

"What was all that about?" The older woman enquired bemusedly.

"That was an excellent piece of field work right there," Jo replied with a proud smirk, brushing past Ros, and then walked back to her station.

-

* * *

Ruth had successfully found the files Jo requested. She got into the cabinet and extracted the papers with ease, locked the file drawer and then proceeded to leave.

No, that hadn't been any trouble at all. The actual problem itself was now getting out of the Registry.

She was just about to let herself out when the huge metal locks on the door had snapped into place. A few seconds later, all the lights went black, and the file room was pitch dark. It felt like a velvet blanket had been pulled over her eyes, almost like a sightless, soundless dream in which you're still awake but incapable of doing anything about your predicament.

She was completely blind, so naturally she was very startled when she walked into a very solid, very real being.

Ruth gave a breathy, albeit muffled scream when she felt a pair of hands grope at her shoulders and back. She tried to hit the person with the files in her hands, and then after a few futile attempts, she chucked the papers into the air and began to swing her fists. She felt for the person's face and delivered a right hook into what felt like the person's jaw.

"Ruth! Stop--Stop...It's Harry!-"

She stilled instantly, suddenly mortified at her actions.

"Oh my god, Harry. I'm so _sorry._ I--I didn't know you were in here? Wha-What...Were you looking for me?" Her voice shook with the immense pressure to not completely fall apart (after all, she'd just punched her boss and superior) and she damn-well quaked when he answered.

"Don't apologize Ruth. Had it been a real intruder, I'm sure they would have backed off in fear. After all, that was a damn good punch," She was thankful for the cover of the darkness, she'd flushed beet-red, "Actually, Jo told me that you needed my authorization to check out some files."

"No, I was just about to leave. I had the files, there was no trouble at all in getting them out."

There was a few second's silence as they both realized that they had been tricked.

"That girl! Oh she would..." Ruth started angrily, "But I don't see how she could have orchestrated this herself, she must have had help from downstairs..."

His silence prompted her to stop. She fancied that she could feel his breath, too close for comfort, she could picture his lips in the darkness, slightly parted and very inviting.

His arms still around her, she couldn't help her body moving closer to him of its own accord.

Their mouths met very gently, too gentle for the fire that was kindled as a result. She leaned into him with no further protests, a small moan was elicited from her vocal chords. The only reason they parted was to breathe. His words were soft and hushed as ever.

"Can I assume_ that_ was a 'yes?' Or was it just a 'perhaps' ?"

She smiled, tickling his neck with her lips, and playfully slapped his chest.

"It was a _yes._"

They remained in that position, completely silent, for several moments. Harry brought her out of her sleepily content reverie with a contemplative enquiry.

"Now, how long do you think they'll keep us in here?"

TBC...


End file.
